Bittersweet: Dark Chocolate
by Merayna
Summary: I remember the feel of her soft lips on mine, hesitant, passionate, the heat of her breath, the feel of her teardrops lightly dripping onto my cheeks. My heart seemed to expand, stretch, feeling as if it would burst.


**Bittersweet: Dark Chocolate**  
  
**By: Merayna**  
  
**A/N:** To you all, note that this is in **InuYasha's** POV.  
  
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There is a day that stands out sharper in my memory than the rest. It was a day when everything contained beauty, perfection...a day when the most beautiful things were in easy reach. It was a day of possibility, a day of understanding.  
  
Shimmering, the bright glow of the sun was warm as it hung suspended in the center of the sky, hesitating before dipping below the horizon. Wispy tendrils of cotton clouds softened the harsh, bright colors of the glowing sky. It seemed as if an artist had stroked the sky carelessly with an enormous brush, dashing brilliant oranges and reds together in a breathtaking union.  
  
The warm light fell onto her hair, making it shine, casting gentle shadows onto her face. Her cheeks glowed a pale rose, crimson flushing her delicate features. Her scarlet lips were curled into a smile, her glittering misty- blue eyes gazing tenderly into my own.  
  
I remember the feel of her soft lips on mine, hesitant, passionate, the heat of her breath, the feel of her teardrops lightly dripping onto my cheeks. My heart seemed to expand, stretch, feeling as if it would burst. I can still see my shaking fingers gently caressing her cheek, neck, my lips following, tracing the path of her tears. The taste of her salty tears is still on my tongue, the colors still in my vision.  
  
I can still feel the giddiness as she slowly drew back, licking her lips, hair slightly mussed, her neat school uniform in disarray.  
  
Kagome...she was so beautiful.  
  
I felt this strange emotion, an emotion I had only felt faintly before.

I remember love.  
  
There was a time, long, long ago, when I believed, innocently and naively, that I knew the elusive and confounding thing called love.  
  
Her name was Kikyou. She was lovely, quiet. Her kindness was famed, and her maturity and understanding was evident. Her coldness was acknowledged silently.  
  
She had this strange grace about her, this aloofness. Her smile was so small it was hard to notice. At the same time, there was no softness to her, only this hard cool brittleness. She had only a small measure of tenderness, of warmth. Yet, I cannot deny her courage. There was none so respected, so held above the rest. Her companions worshiped her, and, in doing that, they isolated her.  
  
We were such different beings. I was fiery, living for the passion of combat, survival. She was ice, living for others, concealing her sorrow.  
  
She was so kind, so insufferably merciful, but she could be terrifyingly cruel, as well. At the same time, she was the stalwart mother defending her young.  
  
I believed I loved her, that I wished to spend the rest of my days with her. Whenever we were together, there was such peace in my soul. I felt quiet, my fire temporarily held at a low flame. I could simply sit with her. She would understand, place a cool hand over my own. She was such a comforting presence.  
  
At times, she was the dearest companion, sweet and irresistible. At other times, she was bitter, angry, yet always, always, so cold. She confused me, but it was such a mild emotion with her.  
  
She was like water, cold, refreshing, sweet, pure. I felt I could just wrap myself in her presence and float gently away in peace. With her, life was toned down to levels of comforting pastels.  
  
I can see now. It was never love, friendship maybe, but never love. It was as if she was my security blanket, something unessential, yet a provider of great comfort.  
  
I can still recall when I first speculated that Kikyou might not have been the "one."  
  
She had stood calmly by my side, watching the sunset, features unreadable, expressionless. Something stirred within her eyes, other than sorrow or anger. I stared intently into their deep brown depths, puzzled. Drawing back, my eyes widened as I realized what it was: joy.  
  
She smirked, features suddenly dissolving into emotion.  
  
"What is it? Are you checking for signs of hatred again?"  
  
"Kikyou...I trust you completely. Why would I do that?"  
  
"Trust? TRUST?! You never go into the village with me, meet me with other people, or even turn your back toward me! You know how much I want to have a normal life, but I could never have one with someone like you!"  
  
I was shocked into silence. The full meaning of her words struck me forcefully in my gut, wounding me deeply. I felt tears springing to my eyes, bitterness and anger clouding my mind, as well.  
  
"How could someone like you be normal anyway, Kikyou? You're a FREAK! Even without your powers, you could never fit in! Without them, you'd be NOTHING! You're not the same and you can never be! STOP TRYING!"  
  
I could tell how deeply I had hurt her; I could read the anguish in her eyes. I knew it and savored it. She stared at me for a moment longer before turning around sharply, striding away. She had seen the triumph in my eyes.  
  
It's almost useless to compare Kikyou to Kagome. They may share the same soul and features, but that is where the similarities end.  
  
Kagome is...life. She radiates emotion, her joy and sadness as fleeting as wind. She is filled with a dazzling well of warmth, sometimes bubbling over in waves. She gives Kikyou's cold, emotionless face a vibrant brightness and spell-binding beauty.  
  
Life is more intense around her. Everything is more vivid. Every emotion is intensified, magnified a hundred fold.  
  
She paints the world around her with strong, brilliant hues, bathing everything in a wash of bright color. Each of her emotions affects me so. Her laughter sends me into a world of happiness, her tears the most excruciating pain.  
  
I get so confused with my emotions concerning her, so frustrated, that I get...irritated. Her fury roars into existence at the smallest angry word, flaming dangerously, which is disturbingly alluring.  
  
My desire for her physical contact is uncontrollable. My need for her to smile, to be happy, to be safe...is overwhelming.  
  
Overall, I just need her to be _her_, and all I ever truly want is to be _with_ her.  
  
God...I think I love her.  
  
A/N: Hm...I really like how this turned out. Is that bad? Shouldn't I still rewrite and rewrite and be angry? I don't know. This is so short, but I like it so much! I don't really expect reviews, but comments would be nice.


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